was not coldly spoken. Elizabeth did not know
what to think of him.

"Can I see her, Mr. Landholm? Is she well enough to see me?"

He looked up then; and there was, hardly a smile, but a
singular light upon his whole face, that made Elizabeth feel
exceedingly grave.

"She is well, but she will not see you again, Miss Elizabeth.
Winnie has left me."

"Left! --" said Elizabeth bewildered.

"Yes. She has gone to her home. Winnie died yesterday morning,
Miss Haye."

Elizabeth met the clear intent eye which, she did not know
why, fixed hers while he spoke; and then dropping her own,
trembled greatly with constrained feeling. She could not tell
in the least how to answer, either words or look; but it would
have been impossible for her to stir an inch from the spot
where she stood.

"Does it seem terrible to you?" he said. "It need not. Will
you see her?"

Elizabeth wished very strongly not; but as she hesitated how
to speak, he had gently taken her hand and was leading her
forward out of the room; and Elizabeth could not draw away her
hand nor hinder the action of his; she let him lead her
whither he would.

"Are you afraid?" he said, as he paused with his hand upon the
door of the other room. Elizabeth uttered an incomprehensible
'no,' and they went in.

"There is no need," he said again in a gentle grave tone as he
led her to the side of the bed and then let go her hand.
Elizabeth stood where he had placed her, like a person under a
spell.

'There was no need' indeed, she confessed to herself, half
unconsciously, for all her thoughts were in a terrible whirl.
Winnie's face looked as though it might have been the prison
of a released angel. Nothing but its sweetness and purity was
left, of all that disease and weariness had ever wrought
there; the very fair and delicate skin and the clustering
sunny locks seemed like angel trappings left behind. Innocence
and rest were the two prevailing expressions of the face, --
entire, both seemed. Elizabeth stood looking, at first awe-
stricken; but presently thoughts and feelings, many and
different ones, began to rise and crowd upon one another with
struggling force. She stood still and motionless, all the
more.

"There is no pain in looking there?" said her companion
softly. Elizabeth's lips formed the same unintelligible 'no,'
which her voice failed to bring out.

"Little sleeper!" said Winthrop, combing back with his fingers
the golden curls, which returned